


What's It Gonna Take?

by TheDarkestMindWithin



Series: The Sex Lives of The Murder Husbands. [5]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Will Graham, Breakfast, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Coming In Pants, Condoms, Drinking, Drunk Texting, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, First Time, Insecurity, Love Confessions, Lube, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, Orgasm, Past Will Graham/Frederick Chilton, Rimming, Safe Sane and Consensual, Texting, Top Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham & Beverly Katz Friendship, will graham in lingerie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-19 06:57:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20326984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkestMindWithin/pseuds/TheDarkestMindWithin
Summary: "How's your head?" He asks, eyes flickering back up to my eye as I laugh humorously and shake my head as I suck back a sneer. He doesn't comment on the flimsy material in my hand."My head, Hannibal? How about my fucking privacy?" I throw the red thong across the room, it lands at his feet and the dogs circle and sniff it, Hannibal simply sighs and turns to put food on plates, clicking his tongue to keep the dogs from jumping up for a bite. I want to scream at him."My interest was piqued, Will." He shrugs, turning round with two plates full of food, setting them down in our usual places as he goes back to pick up the thong before the dogs take a bite out of it."Sit? Please?" I take my seat and watch him move, my anger bubbles just below the surface as I watch him walking round to his own seat and clearing his throat as he pours out coffee for the two of us, as if nothing's happened. As if he's meant to be here and none of last night happened."No right." I say through gritted teeth as he puts the thong down on the table between us and takes a tentative sip of his coffee. My head pounds.





	What's It Gonna Take?

**Author's Note:**

> This is, this is really a lot.
> 
> Without Beta.

* * *

For the first time in far too long, Will Graham felt happy. For the first time in years Will wasn't struggling. For the first time in his life Will Graham looked forward to his days and what they would bring. He had finally stopped overloading his work schedule and had instead elected to teach two classes for the whole term, steady hours that meant regular holiday and fixed home time. He helped Jack with cases every few months when his schedule dwindled and kept far away from the edge.

He had finally kicked Frederick out and moved back into his own home with his dogs, where he was truly happy to just be. No expectations and no judgement Will felt free and able to breathe again. He ate better and slept well, he hadn't completely broken all his bad habits, some nights he enjoyed sitting out on the porch watching the night sky with whiskey in one hand and a book in the other.

He was at peace.

Things only got better when they met, it wasn't the uneasy conversation and attraction led nights together, rather with Hannibal it was more simple, a few discussions on morals and the minds of killers over dinner and wine, walks along the beach with Will's dogs barking and running around them, warm hands twined together beneath warm blankets and a roaring fire.

Will's want to take things slow between them was met without objection or judgement, Hannibal more than happy to spend the nights they shared together reading or talking, soft chaste kisses shared in-between the heated debates they could easily find themselves in. Their intimacy grew from purity, their hands and their mouths. The perfect balance, until it no longer was.

Time had passed, enough time for Will to start to get frustrated. Frustrated with the delicacy of their intimacy, frustrated by how gentlemanly Hannibal is by nature. Will was tired, even if he still enjoyed them beyond words could describe, of the careful and sensual way Hannibal took him to bed and slowly brought him to orgasm with his hands beneath the sheets, his eyes studying Will's face with awe, or the nights where they kicked the sheets the floor and Hannibal's mouth did more than just whisper filthy words into his ear in languages Will had never known to be capable of such beauty

Ultimately Will Graham was horny and far too in love with the man who caused the fire in his belly, that stirred the deepest desires from the depths of his mind, to tell him.

**Beverly:**

**Here's a crazy idea, why don't you try talking to Hannibal?**

The text lights up Will's phone, drawing his attention from the book he had been absently reading back to the conversation he and Beverly had been having earlier this morning. He reads his friend's blunt reply and sighs rubbing at his eye beneath his glasses as he writes out his reply.

**Will:**

**Here's a better, less crazy one, I don't.**

He puts his phone back on the coffee table and resumes reading his book while he waits for Beverly's reply, although his thoughts are more on their conversation and what had started it rather than what Yossarian was about to say to Milo. Ultimately everything was Hannibal's fault.

If he would be just a little less gentlemanly then Will wouldn't have ended up texting Beverly and Beverly wouldn't be texting crazy suggestions such as Will actually talking to Hannibal about his sexual frustrations.

**Beverly:**

**William, you've been with the man for a year and you're finally getting frustrated with him for never having dicked you down. _Talk. To. Him._**

Beverly's reply makes Will choke on his glass of whiskey. The sheer balls of his best friend always leaving him shocked, although as he reads over he text he knows she right and that he needs to talk to Hannibal and not just keep complaining to Beverly. Still, he couldn't find what to say to him.

_Hi, I know I've never said anything but I've actually really want to have sex and not just blow jobs for the rest of my life_? No, Will couldn't just say that, this would take a lot of thinking and a lot of whiskey, he thinks looking at his nearly empty glass. He gets to his feet and goes to his kitchen in search for the newly opened bottle Hannibal had brought him a few weeks ago.

He needs some sort of courage before he potentially ruins his relationship. He goes to the kitchen and retrieves the bottle of whiskey Hannibal had gifted him and pours out a double with some ice and retreats back to his living-room. He puts the bottle on the coffee table, an ice bowl joins it before Will settles back into his seat, stares at his phone as he drinks.

He drinks until he finds the words.

**Will: **

**What's it gonna take to get you to fuck me?**

Will feels an odd satisfaction when the text reads delivered and slightly accomplished when he rereads the text and finds zero spelling mistakes, which is quite and achievement considering how much whiskey currently courses through his blood.

**Hannibal:**

**Enjoying my whiskey, Will?**

The reply makes his skin flush and earns a dark laugh as Will falls back onto his sofa and stares at the phone screen. He'd avoided the question.

**Will:**

**I have lingerie.**

It's a childish response but Will isn't feeling very mature as he takes another sip of the cold auburn liquid.

**Hannibal:**

**I'll buy you another if you've finished it.**

Will looks at the bottle sitting on his coffee table with barely two glasses worth left, the ice in the bowl sitting besides it, he wonders how Hannibal knows he's drinking or if it's just blind luck, Hannibal has never been one for blind luck.

**Will:**

**Toys. I have toys too. Lingerie, toys and lube.**

He doesn't think about what he's saying any more as he downs the last of his glass and quickly adds more ice and pours the rest of the bottle out into his glass, barely an inch of space between the rim and the liquid. He waits for Hannibal's reply as he falls back, careful not to spill a drop of his drink, as he reaches into his pants and pulls out his cock, heat prickles along his flushed skin as he absently strokes at his half erect cock.

Needy and clumsy as he drinks and stares at his phone with unfocused eyes, it lights up but he doesn't read what's written on the screen, he finishes his drink, leans to put it on the coffee table but misses and it falls to the floor, shatters into tiny pieces. He'll clean it up later.

He clears the notification of his phone, Hannibal's name pops up but he doesn't want to talk anymore as tears fall down his cheeks and he feels the muscles hiding beneath his skin of his stomach and his thighs tighten, close to his release. He stares at his screensaver.

Him and Hannibal standing on a beach in Italy, it was the first time Will had met Mischa, they spent time in Florence and Nice with her. Mischa being so much like Hannibal.

Hannibal grins into the camera, arms wrapped securely round Will's body, sun kissed tan skins and wet hair from the cold salt water. They'd had ice cream and long walks in the starlight. They'd kissed against old stone walls. They'd only kissed, Will only wanted to kiss.

He cums, gasping and moaning, bucking into his hand that sticky and hot with his spend. He wants Hannibal. He's breathless and spent and exhausted. He doesn't hear the crunch of tires on the path outside. He doesn't hear the engine cut off or the footsteps walking up to the doorstep, the jingle of keys or the turning of the lock on the door.

Will's caught up in the screensaver, his memories and his fear that this is the start of the end. He feels pathetic.

"Will?" His voice feels loud in the quiet of the house, he thinks it's his mind making things up with the alcohol. He shuts his eyes.

"Tsk, naughty boy." His voice is so warm, wraps around Will like a blanket as he feels Hannibal's fingers caress his tear stained cheek, thumb tracing over his red bottom lip. Maybe he is real, maybe he isn't. Will can't tell, even when he opens his eyes and finds Hannibal looming over him, taking in the scene around them. Mind games all too familiar to Will to be distinguished so easily.

"Have you come to fuck me?" Will finds the words leaving his lips before he had even realised he had decided to say them, he hears Hannibal's amused laugh as he feels his arms wrapping round his body, picking him up as if he weighed nothing, he hides his face in the warmth of Hannibal's dark coat. Damp from the snow.

"I've come to put you to bed." He says quietly against Will's head, kissing him as they begin to move. Will's aware that his cock is out, aware that cum not only stains his skin but his hand and his clothes. He flushes and lets the heavy slumber the alcohol take him, Hannibal will be he when he wakes. He hopes.

* * *

_Will._

I wake to a pounding headache. My eyes bleary due to the harsh daylight streaming in from the windows, the blinds drawn back in the familiarly neat way Hannibal always tied them back when he stayed over. I stretch my arms out either side of myself, searching the empty sheets for any trace that he was here recently, I stare at the white ceiling, my fingers only find cold crumpled sheets. I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding in.

I remember glimpses of last night.

I'm naked beneath the duvet, I know that last night I definitely was not naked. I sneak my hand beneath the sheets and trace my body, there are no traces of last nights exertions leftover on my body like there should be. The headache is evidence that the whiskey part definitely did happen, Hannibal may have wiped away everything else that happened last night but he couldn't wipe away everything. My phone buzzes loudly from the bedside table and I cringe as I reach across to put it on silent, I stare at Hannibal in my screensaver for a few moments. Winston's whining draws my attentions.

He had been asleep in his basket but was now scratching at the door to be let out, I click my tongue and he stops, he doesn't need the toilet then. I reach back to my bedside for my glasses, groaning as a wave of nausea washed over me, an aftereffect of the excess amount of whiskey, I avoided the kind of excessive drinking like last night because of the aftereffects, the sluggishness and the uselessness that dissolves the day. I leave my phone on the table.

I try not to think about what Hannibal saw when he undressed me last night as I climb out from under the sheets and move to get up, shivering from the cold December morning, I let out a gasp of shock when my feet make contact with the ice like wood floor. Running a hand through my tangle of curls as I steel myself for the very cold walk to my wardrobe for some clothes, I could just imagine Hannibal in here last night, tidying away all my clothes and stripping me so I would have to go through the horrible experience.

I try not to think of why I would deserve this kind of revenge, I could talk my way out of my actions last night, maybe, possibly, hopefully. Winston whines again sniffing at the bottom of the door and scratching like a spoilt cat, I know Hannibal's cooking downstairs and he wants some of whatever he's cooking but I know there'll be some left when we go down so I ignore his whining as I cross the icy room for my wardrobe.

I go for my slippers first, putting the first layer between my skin and the cold, it's a small relief, I get out my robe next, the one Hannibal had brought me for our anniversary, my initials stitched in neat gold lettering just above the pocket on the right side, Hannibal has a matching one, only they're his initials. I go for underwear and socks next, searching through my chest of drawers for a thicker pair rather than my usual suit socks. I pause when I see the very bottom drawer has been left slightly pulled out, not how I left it, my heart races a little as I bend down and pull out it out more fully.

The contents in disarray. I know immediately that this is Hannibal's way of telling me he invaded my privacy. I know what's missing without needing to search, I know what he's taken as I feel my face and neck burn with embarrassment as I slam the drawer shut and get to my feet.

I pull on the boxers and socks before I usher Winston back away from the door, pulling it roughly open as Winston shoots of downstairs and I follow furiously behind him. A piece of evidence of his snooping in my hand as I draw closer to the smell of food that now floods the house, headache momentarily forgotten in my anger as I thud down the wood stairs and through the living-room into the kitchen.

Where the culprit is, standing in front of the stove, a frying pan full of food the centre of his attention. He's barely more dressed than me, slippers and robe, I doubt much else, his hair is messy from sleep. He's flipping eggs, he barely looks over his shoulder at me as the dogs bark and circle me happily, I wince at the noise and click my tongue to shush them. Winston, the traitor, is by Hannibal's side.

Attention fixed on begging for food.

"There is water, paracetamol and orange juice on the table for you, Will. Breakfast won't be long." He looks at me with amusement evident in his eye as I go to the breakfast table, downing the tablets laid out for me with the water before moving on to the orange juice, taking a tentative sip as the clothing in my hand draws his attention.

"How's your head?" He asks, eyes flickering back up to my eye as I laugh humorously and shake my head as I suck back a sneer. He doesn't comment on the flimsy material in my hand.

"My head, Hannibal? How about my fucking privacy?" I throw the red thong across the room, it lands at his feet and the dogs circle and sniff it, Hannibal simply sighs and turns to put food on plates, clicking his tongue to keep the dogs from jumping up for a bite. I want to scream at him.

"My interest was piqued, Will." He shrugs, turning round with two plates full of food, setting them down in our usual places as he goes back to pick up the thong before the dogs take a bite out of it.

"Sit? Please?" I take my seat and watch him move, my anger bubbles just below the surface as I watch him walking round to his own seat and clearing his throat as he pours out coffee for the two of us, as if nothing's happened. As if he's meant to be here and none of last night happened.

"No right." I say through gritted teeth as he puts the thong down on the table between us and takes a tentative sip of his coffee. My head pounds.

"Subjective." He replies, putting his drink down, picking up his cutlery, glances at me and waits before I do the same, begrudgingly, my stomach too empty to resist his cooking today. It doesn't mean I forgive him and he knows better than to think it does.

"Not subjective." I sneer, cutting up the scrabbled eggs and sausages, Winston whimpering at my side until I give him a piece, no fucking loyalty, Hannibal openly disapproves but he can't resist Shelley's begging so it's a moot point between us.

"You asked to be fucked last night, William, twice. Why?" I choke on my food from the casual bluntness of his question, spit up the half chewed food into a napkin as I look over at him with blazing eyes, he's watching me innocently, feeding small pieces of meat to Shelley as I try and think about anything else. Skin flushing as I fail to escape his steady eyes.

"I was drunk." I say quickly, flushing as I drink the last of my water to ease my throat. Hannibal sighing as he wipes his hands and shakes his head at me, as if it's so simple to disregard a lie. Like we're just talking about the weather.

"You've been drunk before and have never asked for so much as a _kiss,_ you asked for sex last night. Not just sex but aggressive sex." I shake my head as I get up from my chair, plate and cup in hand as I head for the sink, no longer hungry.

"Asking for a fuck doesn't equal aggression." I say quietly as I place my plate in the sink, bracing myself against the cool marble surface, trying to ignore my racing pulse and flushed skin.

"You could have asked me to make love to you," Hannibal replies, as if this is a debate on morals. Like this isn't our relationship.

"Do you wish for more intimacy, Will? Am I distant?" His tone softens and I hear him get up from his chair and cross the room, he stands behind me with his hands only ghosting over my body, delicate as if I may break, maybe I will? His hands rest on my hips, I wish I was wearing more. Less.

"Why haven't we fu - Slept together yet?" I say, hesitating, hanging my head as I shut my eyes and wait, afraid of what I might see if I looked at him in this second. I hear him sigh and I hear him move closer, even if I don't feel that he is. I wait.

"Frederick left his mark on you, William, and I didn't want to just be another mark. I wanted you to have time, us to have time, I never meant to hurt you in the process." His voice is genuine and shows regret for us being in this situation and I wonder if maybe I'm not the only one whose been left frustrated.

"I just want you to want me." I whisper finally, my voice breaking in the process, I feel as if his hands are the only thing holding me up as I let my tears fall.

"I only want you, Will." He whispers, his lips against my ear as he wraps his arms around my waist and brushed his fingers through my hair, kissing my temple as he slowly turns me to face him, peppering my face with kisses as he wipes away my tears with his thumbs. His actions are soft and slow and delicate.

"Only you." He vows, lips pressing to mine as I let him push me against the sink, the solid surface pressing into my skin and my lips part to allow him entrance. His hands embracing my face as I wrap my arms around his neck.

Moaning as his hands slowly move, caressing my neck before sneaking inside of my robe, warm firm hands searching out my skin. Over my chest and thumbs over my nipples. He makes me feel like I'm on fire as I let my head fall back and gasp for breath as he quickly replaces my lips with my neck, sucking marks into my flesh that we both know will last longer than the ones previously.

I don't care.

"Go upstairs and wait, I'll be in in a moment." His voice is low and husky, hooded eyelids of arousal, I swallow and watch him retreat from my skin, I do as he orders and go back upstairs, Hannibal keeping the dogs from following me. I'm a nervous ball of energy as I enter my bedroom, unsure of anything I quickly go back to my drawer full of lingerie, searching out an outfit, listening carefully for any sound to indicate that Hannibal was coming.

With shaky fingers and laboured breaths I slip on the expensive material over my flushed skin, I had always dreamt of wearing these things for someone one day, Frederick hadn't had any interest and anyone before him, not that there were many, I never had interest in showing this side of myself, but for Hannibal. Dressing up for Hannibal felt right somehow, like it had only ever meant to be for him. I fleetingly wish I had shaved but I quickly move on, knowing better than to fear that Hannibal would care.

Once I'm satisfied with my appearance, I use the extra time to fluff up my hair and pull over the crumbled bed sheets, I'm fluffing the last pillow when he knocks on the door, waits a few moments before the door is pushed open and he walks in. My heart races as he stops a few feet from the bed, his eyes fixed on me as I lay back on my elbows and wait for him to have taken all that he sees in.

"Will, I - " He falters and it's maybe the first time I've ever seen Hannibal Lecter speechless, I smile and my nerves are momentarily forgotten as I bask in the accomplishment, he takes a few steps to close the space and gazes at all the finer details of my outfit.

"No more words, Hannibal? Please?" I say quietly when he looks as if he speech may return, he smiled and nodded solemnly before he slowly lowered himself to his knees and affectionately picked up my right stocking clad leg, his hands delicate as he brought my limb to his nose and inhaled, his eyes fixed on mine as his hand explored my exposed flesh as if he was seeing me bare for the very first time.

His lips trace over the black lace tentatively, soft and fleeting, I let my head fall back as my eyes roll back, slowly being worked up.

"Will, I must confess," Hannibal begins, his voice a low rumble as I bring my gaze back to his as he slowly removes my stocking, slow and methodical as he is in all things.

"That every night that passed with little more than a few minutes of intimacy that went no further than touching your pretty cock, left me fantasising," His words strip me of my guard as his hands strip me of my clothes, my Adam's apple bobs in my throat as I watch him remove each item of my clothing with careful precision.

He places the stocking now removed from my leg on the floor besides him before adding my left one, he crawls up my body, whispering sweet nothings as his lips leave a blaze of desire in their wake, he crawls up my body and glazes over where the fire really lay burning, his hands instead focus on removing the matching bralette, I watch him as he reveals my chest, swirls his tongue over my nipple, watches me watch him through thick lashes. I chew my lip to keep from crying out.

"I want to hear your cries, love. Your moans and your gasps, everything. Do not shy from me." He whispers, his voice gravel in my ear as he presses his thumb against my lip and eases it out of the grip of my teeth, letting my needy gasps free as he sucks delicious marks into my skin just like earlier.

Breathy whines escape my lips when his hand finally touches where I had craved him to be, between my thighs over the wet patch that had begun to form over the thong I had put on especially for him. Similar but not identical to the one he had stolen from me this morning.

"What d - Did you fantasise about?" I stutter, swallowing and squeezing my eyes shut as his thumb swipes over my leaking head, he encourages me to open my eyes just as he's bringing his thumb covered in my precum to his lips, groaning loudly around his thumb as my cock twitches and leaks at the sight.

"I fantasised about all sorts of things," He says sitting back on his thighs above me as if assessing what he wishes to do next. I wait with laboured breaths.

"I often fantasised how you'd look impaled on my cock, how your sweet juicy cheeks would stretch for me," His hands reach down to grab at my exposed arse, I while as he massages the globes, his lips against mine, swallowing the moans straight from my lips.

"How your mouth would form that perfect 'O' when you cum," Hannibal continues, kissing a path from my lips down to my chest as my mind fills with the images his paints.

"I wish I'd have known sooner." I confess between whines as he sucks along my ribs, he chuckles against my flesh and looks up at me with a glitter to his eye.

"We have time, Will." He promises and I know we do. I know we have time for everything. I smile at me and bring him back to my lips, soft and full against my own. He tastes of coffee and I know this is a kiss I'll never forget.

"Where's your lube?" Hannibal whispers lowly against my lips when I feel his erection rubbing against my naval, leaking, swollen and hot. I reach for the side table but am unable to reach with Hannibal straddling my thighs, he smirks above me and moves so he's able to reach.

"Are you sure you're ready?" He asks when he's resumed his position and in his hands are a box of condoms and a bottle of lube, I nod as he smiles and kisses me several times, brief and chaste, trailing down my bare body.

"Hannibal!" I whine needy and impatient as he kisses around my thighs, lifting my leg over his shoulder, he chuckles against my skin and looks up at me through hooded lids.

"Now is not the time to become impatient." He says lowly, his stubble tickling my skin as he kisses the inside of my thigh once more before he finally moves on to where I want.

Removing my thong with careless domination I'm finally laid completely bare to him. My breath hitches as his hot breath floats over my ball and the curve of my arse. The room stills as his tongue extends past his lips and brushes over my puckers hole, I gasp and squeeze my eyes shut as Hannibal's growling grunt of appreciation floods the room around us.

"So beautiful," He drools, tongue lapping, I squirm and gasp as his hands hold my thighs, holding me steady, I cry out when he delves deeper inside, scorching my skin with his wet muscle. Skilful as he works me open. All for him. Only for him. Time passes but I don't know how long, I'm in bliss, floating in airless clouds as Hannibal's tongue works my body as if he knows my every secret, as if he were made for me.

I'm hard and wet and leaking and begging by the time he decides I'm ready for him. Thrashing on the messy sheets as he pulls back and watches me, he has power and authority despite his vulnerability, sliding the condom on over his fat cock as I watch with wanton whines for him. He pours lube over his length, massages the wet liquid into his covered cock as he pulls my hips, pulls me closer into a better position.

I spread my legs for him, grip the pillow above my head with my hands as I try to stay steady as he scissors my hole with his wet fingers, watching with fascination until he's satisfied. Until neither of us can wait any longer.

He crawls inside of me and the world behind my eyes explodes. He consumes every memory and every thought and everything feeling until they're obliterated, tiny shards replaced by him, by Hannibal. He's unlike any other man I've ever had before. He burns with the stretch, fills me to the brink as he bottoms out with a strangled grunt. He stills completely as he waits for my okay, for my nod to signal that I want him to move.

I'm overwhelmed with how he feels, his skin against mine, his cock buried deep inside my body. I stare at him and experimentally clench around him, we let out an entwined cry when I do. He begins moving, thrusts matched with my own as I shake against the sheets, the frame bangs against the wall, the dogs bark and scratch at the door.

It's just us, it will only be us.

"I love you." I whisper when his lips join mine and his tempo picks up, edging me closer to the cliff of my release, he smiles against my lips and brushes my curls from my sweat covered forehead, gazes into my eyes and kisses me with unmatched fever as he pounds a little harder and strokes my cock until I'm crying into his lips, crashing over the jagged rocks of my release and cumming into Hannibal's tight hot hand.

Hannibal comes seconds after my release, his cum covered hand gripping my hip as he releases into my body with a guttural cry that borders on animalistic. He collapses besides my spent body, gasping into the room as I lay motionless besides him, my body weighted jelly.

Seconds turn into minutes and breathless pants turn into steady breaths, his hand entwines with mine. Head turning to study my face as I look back at him with the same expression, we're remembering how the other looks in the afterglow, our first proper afterglow. I smile and bring his knuckles to my lips.

"I love you." Hannibal murmurs into the quiet of the room, watching me for reaction, to see if it was a mistake to say it back or not. I smile against his knuckles and brush my lips over the soft flesh.

"I know." He chuckles and wraps his arms around my body and holds me close to him. Content.


End file.
